


The Price

by D_Prime



Series: NecRomance [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_Prime/pseuds/D_Prime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You think, in the split-second before you start screaming, that it's weird how the bullet hit your best friend dead-center in the middle of his forehead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to keep this going past the point it actually ends, but then I realized it probably works better this way.

It starts with a gun pointed at your face.  
  
You don't remember the man holding it (nothing left of him but severed limbs and blood, so much blood) but you remember the gun.  
  
The next thing that happens is Stiles tackling you just as the gun goes off.  
  
And you think (you will remember this thought for the rest of your life) that you're both okay, you're both lucky the guy was such a lousy shot.  
  
And Stiles is lying there, and you nudge him, and he rolls over, and he's dead.  
  
(You think, in the split-second before you start screaming, that it's weird how the bullet hit your best friend dead-center in the middle of his forehead.)  
  
***

(Afterwards, you'll be kind of amazed that you did it all so quickly, so efficiently. No cradling his body, no crying, no mourning. You just _do_.)

First you call Kira, beg her to impersonate Stiles long enough to keep the Sheriff in the dark (you keep imagining having to _tell_ him, _oh god mister stilinski i'm so sorry it's all my fault he died because of me_ and you can't, you _can't_ ). She does it, because she cares, but there's no time for that now, not yet. You have a job to do.

You're going to bring Stiles back.

(Afterwards, you'll be shocked at how easily that thought came to you, how casual it seemed. Of _course_ you'll bring him back. This is Beacon Hills.)

You find Peter, because he's the only person you know who ever came back from the dead. (Well, there's Jackson, but he's still an ocean away and dealing with Peter's easier anyway.) That plan, with Lydia and the equinox, that's not something he just happened to know.

So you torture him. For hours. You think of Deaton pursing his lips when you ask him whether druids can raise the dead. _Unnatural_ , he said, and you punched him, knocked him out cold. 

Finally, as you're ripping chunks of flesh off his leg, Peter gives you a name: Marcus. He barely manages to whisper it because you've already torn his lips off.

Marcus. A necromancer. Lives in the woods, keeps to himself. No one deals with him and comes out of it happy, but you're Scott McCall. "Happy" isn't something you've known in a long time.

***

Marcus is nothing like what you expected. He's a wizened old man with a wild tuft of white hair hidden under a yarmulke, and big square glasses. He looks almost exactly like Woody Allen, and talks with a thick Yiddish accent. You don't comment on this, because you're still in shock, because you're still covered in blood (Stiles', and the gunman's, and Peter's) and Stiles is cold in your arms.

"Ach, you wolf types, always so much drama." the old man clucks, and waves at a large stone rectangle near the far wall. An altar. You lay Stiles on it and force yourself to look away.

"I should warn you: he won't be exactly the same." There's a bit of sorrow in the necromancer's eyes. "No one ever comes back exactly the same."

"Doesn't matter." you say, and you mean it, and you're surprised that you mean it. "I love him. I don't care. I'll love him anyway."

Marcus shrugs, and hands you a tiny amulet on a leather string. "The Heart of Ashmedai." he says, and spits on the ground. "Commit three acts of betrayal: friendship, pack and blood. When you're done, bring the amulet to me and I will do as you ask."  
  
***  
  
Pack is easy. Later, when you're throwing up, it will be largely because it was so easy.

Isaac comes when you call. Of course he does. And you stand there, and force the words past the gorge in your throat: you tell him to take his clothes off. Isaac laughs, because you're joking, right? You must be joking. But you say it again, and your eyes burn red, and you tell him - you _make_ him do it. And he starts crying, because of course he does, but you tell him what to do and he does it and you fuck him and he cries and it's horrible it's horrible it's horrible but then his body goes taut and his hips snap up and when he comes he rakes his claws down your back and the amulet glows and you feel it you feel it you feel it-

***

Isaac leaves in silence, tears long-since dried, his clothes in a lump under his arm. You wonder if maybe that counts as two betrayals, but no - Isaac was never your friend. Rival, packmate, housemate, yes, but where was he when some psycho shot Stiles in the head? Screwing around with your ex-girlfriend.

 _I'm sorry_ , you want to say, but then it wouldn't be a betrayal. Later. When Stiles comes back, you'll make it right with Isaac somehow.

***

Friendship is easier. And so much harder. Because Danny is innocent, he really is - he's not part of this insanity, and he shouldn't have to be. But if you have to choose between Danny and Stiles (and you do, that's the whole point) you know you'll pick Stiles in a heartbeat.

Aiden is still desperate to join your pack, so you tell him what he has to do. He takes to it - so much more devious than his brother, and clearly this isn't the first time he's impersonated Ethan - and he humiliates Danny in full view of the entire track team, saying things that aren't true, and maybe some things that are, things he would have told Ethan in confidence (as if the twins could ever keep secrets from each other). Danny storms off, head held high, but you know he's on the verge of a breakdown because he keeps everyone at arm's length except Jackson, and Jackson's still gone.

The amulet pulses again.

 _Stiles,_ you think.

***

Is it luck, that the Heart only needs you to betray one parent? Because your mom is the only person in the world you'd never, ever hurt, not even for the boy who took your hand in first grade and told you he'd be your best friend forever. 

Super-Agent Rafael McCall, though? It's almost _too_ easy to plant a dead hunter's weapons in his hotel room, too easy to get the Sheriff to check it out. And when they take your father away in handcuffs, the thought blazes across your mind and you can barely keep from screaming it out: _this is for everything you did to us, and everything you never did for us, and fuck you anyway_.

The Heart approves.

***  
  
"That was fast." Marcus notes, and lets out a small laugh. There's a lit brazier by the door; Marcus takes the amulet and drops it into the fire. It turns red, then blue, then blinding white, and the necromancer scoops the flame up with one hand.

Stiles is still on the altar, so pale and still and silent. The old man stands over the body and winks at you. "This is what you bought, boychik. Hope you enjoy it." And he drives his burning fist into Stiles' chest.

And your best friend rears up and gasps, and rolls off the altar in a flail of limbs and it's _Stiles_ , so typically Stiles and you finally cry.

Stiles scrambles back into a corner, and you kneel down and grab him, pull him to you, thanking Marcus and God and Ashmedai and every goddemonspiritnemetonvoidmonster in the universe because Stiles is back and you'll never let him be hurt again, never ever.

And Stiles says "I'm okay, Scotty, I'm okay" and he hugs you back, buries his face against your shoulder-

and his tongue swipes against your pulse-

and there's a pinch, something sharp breaking through your skin-

and Stiles' mouth fastens over the side of your neck and he starts _sucking_ -

and the last thing you hear is an exasperated necromancer saying " _Oy gevalt_ , just what we needed"-

and the last thing you think of is what you told Marcus, and it's still true:

_Doesn't matter_

_I love him_

_I don't care_

_I'll love him any-_


End file.
